Living in the memory

Family

My mom told me that I was a strange kid.
As a baby I would do splits everywhere.

A flexible, monkey,
Bouncing, laughing,
And hiding when Swiper from Dora the Explorer popped up on the screen.

"You had such beautiful blonde hair as a baby, before it turned pitch black. It was weird." - (Mom)

I hated vegetables,
I hated the sicky Ramen Noodles my father served to me in a bowl.
I hated the chattering sound when the soundtrack kicked in, bursting from the silence, it was a kids show and yet it gave me night-terrors like you wouldn't believe.

There was always a tension that made my bones, my muscles stiffen.
I would break out in hives..
I would be covered from head to toe, from the stress my little body was put under. All from my environment.

I broke out so bad, to the point where I needed this white, pastey cream that I would rub on my arms. To clear up from the red mess.

I remember the paranoia.
I would turn my arms over, looking at my forearms for any bumps..
How I would try not to scratch them and say that "It's fine".
I hated the smell of that cream, the smell of the cream confused my nostrils each time I unscrewed the cap. A light whiff of mayonnaise, mixed with the strong scent of that cold cream cheese. The clumpy kind that you'd have alongside your scrambled eggs in the morning. To be entirely honest, I'm not even sure if THAT was cream cheese. I'm not really sure of anything.

My mom always looked out for me, and my sisters.

He always made an entrance, he always showed up when nobody wanted him to.

We were scared of him, until one proud, strong woman stood up to him for us
Every single hour.. Every day.

He always gave me a spoon.
He always asked me questions I didn't know the answers to. He also asked me and my sisters physiological questions, playing mind games with us.

"Who do you like more, Me or your mother?"

And yet my mom, still protected us from the devil's apprentice.

I remember the time I was at my Grandmother's house.
Her house was covered in vines and beautiful flowers that sprouted no matter what kind of heat they faced.

White and pink, some red, maybe there were yellow and blue ones too.

Just there, protecting the cottage house in the oak woods. Observing any guests that drag their little feet on the gravel, dirt road towards the green door.

I remember the taste from those old time hex-cracker treats.
X's about 2 inches long I believe,
Small, pleasant strawberry crackers.

I loved Strawberry Shortcake,
I loved how she would smile to me with her wrinkles, and all.
The whole package.
Her curly white hair that looked like a cloud hovering over my Grandmother's head.

I think I loved her cookie jar the most though in our visits. Even though, they were pretty short.

My mom's side of the family are the ones who knew me and my sisters.

I don't remember any names or faces, and I hardly knew them.

The few memories I have of my big family felt like dreams. Some parts didn't make sense, and other parts.. For the life of me, I wish I knew what was real and what had been locked away.. The parts that my mind did to protect me from.

I wish I knew my cousins, I heard from my mother that our family is EXTREMELY BIG!  There's uncle Kevin, uncle Tiger, aunt High-Tea.. And her sister that is no longer with us. She's in heaven now.

I feel bad for my mom and I feel sorry that the people in her life treated her so poorly ever since she was a kid.. Her nightmares of him, and seeing her cry when I sometimes forget to pick up after myself. I'm sorry for a lot of the things I have done, even the mistakes that weren't mine.

I sometimes wonder if I was perfect enough for her. And if I still am.